


Yours

by Etienne_Lennon



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etienne_Lennon/pseuds/Etienne_Lennon
Summary: After the events in Washington, Steve and Sam are looking for Bucky, who is trying to figure things out.This story is a homage to  Sincerely, Your Pal by lettered, which is just an amazing read. In that story, Steve and Bucky write each other letters during the war, but they have issues and misunderstandings and well, no spoilers here. But that story is so good and so intense that I really just wanted to know how it ends and so I have started this as a kind of sequel to it. You don't need to have read Sincerely, Your Pal to understand this story, but if you haven't read it yet, you should, because it is just so very awesome.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sincerely, Your Pal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194165) by [lettered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettered/pseuds/lettered). 



> I guess this is kind of a bumpy read, partly because of the format and partly because I am obviously not a native speaker. I still hope some people enjoy it. If you do, comments are very welcome. If you don't, please just bear in mind that each story, even those you don't like, take time and effort to write and flaming is just not cool. 
> 
> I have never interacted with lettered and just hope it's OK to publish this in relation to Sincerely your Pal. If it's not, please let me know. 
> 
> Oh, and as always, none of this ever happened and these characters are not mine.

From:  [Sam.Wilson@gmail.com](mailto:Sam.Wilson@gmail.com)

To:  [Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com](mailto:Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com)

2015/05/10

**Subject: winter is lost**

 

Hey Steve,

I hope you're doing well on your international travels. I just wanted you to know that I am still looking for those winter supplies that you lost. But It's damn hard to find them.

I am unsure of how much more private stuff I should write in here, given how my big brother is prone to reading other people's emails. And although I love him, I don't want him to know everything, especially not things concerning you and your private issues.

So anyway, let me know what you're up to and maybe some more info that might help me find your supplies.

All the best,

Sam

 

P. S. Give Natasha a kiss from me if you see her, that is if you dare :-)

 

From:  [Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com](mailto:Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com)

To  [Sam.Wilson@gmail.com](mailto:Sam.Wilson@gmail.com)

2015/05/10

**Subject: Re: winter is lost**

 

Hi Sam,

It is so good to hear from you! I am still not really used to email, but it sure is a fast way of communicating!

I thought a lot about what you said about your brother. You know I love the guy but he has always been concerning himself unnecessarily with other people's private lives.

Anyway, I do have a friend who knows about this stuff and he will find a solution.

Just check your phone for more info.

Thank you once again for your help. You're one of the good ones.

But remember to be careful.

Take care.

SGR

 

 

From:  [sw@stark-secure.com](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [sgr@stark-secure.com](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/05/13

**Subject: my search**

 

Steve,

 I sure hope your friend Tony knows his stuff. But then I guess if someone doesn't want their emails read it's Iron Man. I just hope he doesn't read our stuff.

Hey, Iron Man, your armor makes you look like a red Power Ranger!

(nothing? OK, then I guess we're safe).

Anyway, this is a great way to stay connected, wherever you are. I know we can text, but some of this info is a little more complicated and there are still things that cannot be expressed with Emojis. Have you gotten the hang of Emojis yet btw.? Because I feel like you haven't.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Or stalling, because you won't like what comes next.

We screwed up, Steve.

We thought Barnes would be as far and as fast away from Washington as possible. But after all this time of useless internet searches and reading Twitter, I had a hunch and charmed the lady who sells tickets at the Smithsonian and asked her if she ever felt like working at a museum makes you see things from that museum everywhere. And she was like, „yeah, I mean there is always Captain America, that is pretty strange. But a while ago there was a guy here who looked real familiar from that exhibit also. Though I couldn't get a good look at him. It was weird, he was wearing a hoodie and gloves even thought it was still summer.“

Steve, I bet that was him. Barnes just stayed in Washington to mess with us.

But it's the first lead on him. And for all that spy crap he is real and he makes mistakes. Going to that museum was just so obviously a mistake that we didn't think he'd be dumb enough to do it.

Anyway, it made me think he is obviously trying to figure things out.

Is there anything you can remember from that exhibit that might take him to another place? Maybe a place from your past?

It made me think that he might still be in the US. I mean after all, how can he get on a plane? Do you think he had a passport on him or with him in a lair somewhere? Would he be able to go back into a Hydra lair after all that happened?

Which brings me to the next thought to cheer you up:

I really don't think he is back with Hydra anymore. I wasn't convinced when you tried to reassure me that the guy who tore out my wing was really a sweetheart but with that museum- it sounds like there is something there.

Or you know, maybe he is just trying to gain more intel on you as his mission. But then we'd probably be dead already, right?

Anyway. If you can think of places Barnes might want to go for a trip down memory lane, just let me know. And please don't just say “Brooklyn”. I am basically driving there as I am writing this. Or you know, not, since that would be unsafe.

Stay safe.

Sam.

 

P.S. Just out of curiosity, while you're out there, chasing down Hydra and stuff, do you still find the time to go running? Cause I run every morning and I will kick your butt when you return, old man!

 

 

From:  [sgr@stark-secure.com](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [sw@stark-secure.com](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

2015/05/13

**Subject: Re: my search**

 

Of course he went to Brooklyn! I should have looked there first. There was a picture of the old house we used to live in at the exhibit. Please check! I would run there myself if I wasn't on the other side of the damn Atlantic.

Keep me posted.

SGR.

 

From:  [sgr@stark-secure.com](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [sw@stark-secure.com](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

2015/05/13

**Subject: sorry**

 

Hey Sam,

I just wanted to apologize for my last email. When I read it again, it seemed terribly rude. I mean, you agreed to help in the search and I had no right to ask this from you in the first place. And now I'm basically shouting cyber orders at you.

I am sorry. But it's Bucky. Believe it or not, but he has always been the one to tell me to think things through.

I hope you can accept this apology.

Your friend,

Steve.

 

From:  [sw@stark-secure.com](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [sgr@stark-secure.com](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/05/14

**Subject: Re: sorry**

 

Jeez old man, it's OK. I am no little girl. Just try and remember who your friends are. Oh, that's right, it's real hard to forget about your friends, what with them being all tall and green or flying and red. But there is also me. Just a guy you've met at the park.

I am at a hostel in Brooklyn now, just walking through the area to see where it leads to.

I am sorry to tell you that your old building is a coffee place next to a farmers market now.

Will try to chat up the waiter at that coffee place. He looks cute and like he might swing both ways.

We're OK.

Sam.

 

P.S. Speaking of which, give Thor a kiss from me as well, will you? I might not know the guy but I'm a big fan.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's notes while he is trying to process everything and find out who he is.

_Washington, USA, April 2014_

Mission: Incomplete

Reason: Unknown.

Probable cause: Malfunction of asset due to emotional compromise

Return to base: Delayed until further information is inquired

 

_Washington, USA, April 2014_

Alias: Winter Soldier

Condition: Uncertain

Return to base: Delayed

 

_Washington, USA, May 2014_

Return to base: Impossible. The asset has burned the base to the ground

New base: Church cellar

Functionality: Compromised due to lack of sustenance

 

_Washington, USA, May 2014_

Asset has been upstairs

Asset listened to service

Asset has been fed by church employees

Change of location: Impending

 

_Washington, USA, June 2014_

Information from mission file:

Rogers, Steven G.

Alias: Captain America

Born: July 4 th , 1918, Brooklyn, NY, USA

 -

Barnes, James Buchanan

Alias: Bucky

Born: March 10 th , 1917, Brooklyn, NY, USA

 -

Connection: Unknown

 

_Washington, USA, July 2014_

Dream (another malfunction? The asset does not dream):

Fire and Ice. Falling. The face of Steven G. Rogers.

 

_Washington, USA, July 2014_

Orders: No new orders

Left church. Use of credit cards not advisable. Dead drop for cash still operational though

 

_Washington, USA August 2014_

No new information on Steven G. Rogers available. But found pamphlet that points to an exhibit about Rogers.

 

_Washington, USA, September 2014_

Barnes was Rogers' friend

Barnes died. He fell. Into an abyss of ice

 

_Washington, USA, October 2014_

Barnes shared a face with the asset

Rogers called the asset “Bucky”

Rogers thinks, the asset is his friend “Bucky”

Rogers thought, I was his dead friend.

 

_Washington, USA, November 2014_

Am I dead? Who am I?

 

_Washington, USA, December 2014._

The mission brief and the exhibit both mentioned Brooklyn.

As well a place to go to as any.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is still trying to find Bucky. Steve finds reason to hope.

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/15

**Subject: Re: Re: my search**

 

Hi Steve,

I have been asking everyone at that coffee house twice about Barnes. No one saw anything.

I'm still staying here at least for a week. Not only because the locals seem to be real friendly, but also because there must be a clue here somewhere.

Do you know any places he might visit? Anywhere specific he might go?

I hope ur fine. Haven't seen you on the news, so that must be a good thing, right?

Sam.

 

 

From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sw@start-secure.com ](mailto:sw@start-secure.com)

2015/5/18

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: my search**

 

Dear Sam,

Thanks, I appreciate your commitment to this. I have literally a thousand memories about Bucky and me in Brooklyn. There are so many places. I don't know where to start. I will think of a list and send it to you.

I am fine otherwise. We have some successes, but you know how it is with Hydra. You take off one head...

Anyways. I have given Nat a kiss on the cheek from you and she just winked at me. I have given Thor a kiss (on the cheek) from you and he outright laughed at me.

It makes me wonder what these people see in me.

Anyway. I wish you luck.

Your friend,

Steve

 

 

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/20

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: my search**

 

Steve,

Today, I got lucky.

There was a waitress here at the coffee house today, who only comes in to help out when they're short on staff. Apparently, the last time she worked here, she did see a man sitting alone by the window, wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap.

Apparently, he was just staring out of the window and writing into a little notebook. The waitress said he paid for a coffee he didn't touch, which just seems wrong in this neighborhood. He didn't talk to her at all. Just pointed at the coffee in the menu and put the cash on the table. She thought he was a tourist.

I am pretty certain he was here, Steve. But now what? The waitress couldn't remember much more. I have actually been sitting at that table. You cannot see much from there. Just an old cherry tree.

Anyway, she saw him here in March, so whatever happened, I am pretty close on his heel now. But I just don't know where to go from here. I have no idea if he is still in New York or if he has moved on.

What do you think?

Sam

 

 

From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/20

**Subject: Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: my search**

 

Dear Sam,

There was a cherry tree you say? In March? That is interesting. Although mostly for me I guess, I don't know how to explain this to you and I am probably just telling myself stuff that isn't real.

Sorry, this is confusing. But – maybe it's not just Brooklyn. Just maybe. He is, I mean we were – Well, maybe he has been to the Museum of Modern Art. Or Central Park. Don't ask me, why. It's just an idea. I don't know how you can ask about him there, I guess they wouldn't remember him. But maybe you're lucky. You have been so far.

I have included a list with some other places to this email. Maybe you can check them out?

This must be frustrating for you. I am sorry for putting you through this. I would do it myself but we are still needed here. I am sorry.

Thank you.

Your friend,

Steve.

 

 

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/25

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: my search**

 

Steve,

I checked out all those places you have indicated. I did not find anything.

The guy is a ghost again.

I am going back to Washington tomorrow.

So sorry.

Sam.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confused Bucky gets his first clue.

**New York, USA, March 2015**

Went to where Barnes used to live.

 

**New York, USA, March 2015**

This is his old address. No memory. No nothing. Just the smell of coffee. Rogers must be wrong. He doesn't know anything.

This is disturbing. There are no words.

Where are the orders?

There is a tree outside. It is blossoming pink. I guess that is – what? Nice? Pretty? What are the words?

 

**New York, USA, March 2015**

Dream: A cherry tree. Then a big park. At Sunset.

 

**New York, USA, March 2015**

Central Park.

Walking around. Sitting on benches. There is something – not a memory. A feeling. Something about cold. Although it is warm. Is this something? Everyone has been to this place. It is too big. It means nothing. It means no connection to Barnes. The museum never mentioned this. He didn't work here, had no friends here. Dead end.

 

**New York, USA, April 2015**

Still Central Park.

First place with emotional reaction.

But no memory.

 

**New York, USA, May 2015**

Barnes' face was in a magazine today. He is in a gallery.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds something interesting.

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/28

**Subject: Breakthrough**

 

Steve,

I don't know, how to tell you this – who is managing your PR? Who takes care of your affairs?

I don't know why, I seriously don't – but there is an exhibit here. It's a small gallery but I heard about it while I was at the Museum of Modern Arts.

The exhibit is about “sketches from the war”.

There is a drawing of a young Sergeant there, Steve. It's dated June 1943 and it's Barnes. It sure as hell is him! I have included a picture in this email. That is your signature, SGR, isn't it?

What is going on?

Sam

 

From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/28

**Subject: Re: Breakthrough**

 

Dear Sam,

Thank you. I remember this picture. I drew it back in 1943 for Bucky's Mum. Mrs. Barnes was such a sweet lady and she was so heartbroken when he left for war. So after his last visit home, I drew this picture from memory and gave it to her. I don't know what happened then. I never found out what happened to his family. I know I sent his Ma a letter after he fell, but I ended on ice myself before I ever got a response.

I suppose it doesn't really matter how they got a hold on this drawing. What matters is, was he there? Is there any trace of him?

Please let me know, what's going on.

Your Pal,

Steve

 

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To: From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/29

**Subject: Re: Re: Breakthrough**

 

Someone stole that drawing, Steve. I have been there yesterday to check it out and when I came back today, they said someone took it during the night.

I don't know if it was him. But if not, it would be one hell of a coincidence, don't you think? It's a big city though and I can't promise that I will find him. But I'll try.

You have my word.

 

From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

To:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/29

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Breakthrough**

 

Sam,

This is the best news I have had in a week. It means he is really there. It also means he is trying to connect with who he was. I mean, it does, doesn't it? I don't have much experience in the matter but I would imagine that he wouldn't steal a drawing of Bucky Barnes, if he was still in his Winter Soldier programming. Or am I wrong?

This is really starting to get to me I fear. I mean, it feels strange to know that Bucky is still alive. It was so hard to get over his death. I know you know the feeling, Sam. Again, I am sorry about Riley. I am sorry your wingman didn't make it back.

May I ask if you think about him at times? I know after Bucky fell, I thought about him always. In my mind he was with me during my fight against the Red Skull and he sat next to me on what I thought would be my last flight.

I can hardly describe how I felt when I came back into action and realized, Bucky would probably have been long dead even if he hadn't fallen. Dead or decaying like Peggy. I don't think I could have seen him the way I saw Peggy.

It was impossible to get over his loss. It still is. And now he might still be out there. He is alive, Sam. He might still return to me!

I can't wait to hear from you again.

Steve

 

 

From:  [ sw@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sw@stark-secure.com)

To: From:  [ sgr@stark-secure.com ](mailto:sgr@stark-secure.com)

2015/5/30

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Breakthrough**

 

Hi Steve,

Let me get to the facts first, cause I know you're dying to hear what happened.

I returned to the gallery today, hoping to find out more about what has happened at the gallery, like if they saw anyone matching Barnes' description come around in the last week.

But when I wanted to start my inquiry, I noticed that the drawing was right back where it had been before. And then I couldn't help myself, I bought your own drawing for much too high a price with the credit card you gave me “for emergencies”. I would feel sorry for acting on a hunch if it hadn't been the very right call. For I got home, got the picture out of the frame and turned it around. And there (in invisible ink of course, spy style, but I know some tricks myself) was the following:

_Tell Rogers to stop looking. BB is dead._

I sent you a picture so that you can check the handwriting.

What do you want me to do now? I am there for you whatever you decide.

I feel honored that you have opened up to me like you did in your last -email. You know what Riley meant to me, so maybe I can relate, if only in some ways, to what you're feeling.

Even with therapy and even after all the changes in my life, hardly a day passes by when I don't think about Riley. Sometimes I see him on the street. Sometimes I wake up at night and try to remember the sound of his voice. With the way he died, I didn't get much closure either. That's what makes it so hard.

Maybe you should allow yourself to grief for Barnes. I know I wrote before that I will support you no matter what, and I will. But to be honest, I think you should grieve for the man you knew. Maybe Barnes is not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he is not Bucky either. Whatever he is, Steve, you must let go of the past. Don't cling to it, even if it's enticing. I have said my good-byes to Riley at an empty graveside, because there was nothing left of him to bury. I still see him in the streets. But when I do, I mourn his loss and what it has done to me. Because he is gone.

Please consider this.

I am here for you. If you can, I'd also be happy to talk on the phone. Sometimes it helps to hear a kind voice.

Sam.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

New York, USA, May 2015

Saw the man that helped Rogers back in Washington here in Brooklyn. Blaming general malfunction for not noticing earlier. Followed him to the gallery with Barnes' picture. Action needs to be taken. 

New York, USA, May 2015

Left the picture with a message to Rogers. Don't want to kill anyone. There is no mission. But this can't go on. Barnes is dead. Can't explain why I keep a copy of that drawing. A reminder? 

New York, USA, May 2015

Finding myself looking not so much at the image of the dead man. But at the signature of the mission that is still alive. 

SGR. 

Time to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: sw@stark-secure.com

2015/06/01

Subject: None

Dear Sam,

I have been thinking for a long time before writing this.  
Your E-Mail found me at a weird time. I can't really explain but I had a vision that – that I was back in the forties. The war was over and Peggy asked me to dance. It was the idea of a life without Bucky. Of a reality where I wasn't frozen myself. The thought of actually having to live without him – I can't tell you how much that hurt. So I don't think I can mourn him, Sam. Not when I know he is out there somewhere. There are no words, there is no format in which I can imagine anything so dark and empty. 

But if he chooses this, and that is his handwriting, still the same after all this time, then I will respect his choice. 

I will find him myself when the time comes. But no. I won't let go of him. I can't. 

Thanks for being there. And thanks for buying that picture. I haven't seen it in so long, please keep it for me.

Thanks for everything.

SGR


	8. Chapter 8

Bucharest, Romania, July 2015

Dreams are coming more and more. Are they memories? A train. A fall. Roger's face. He is crying. But then he is smiling. 

I have also seen him crouched over a piece of paper, drawing. He seemed much smaller then. The museum said there were two versions of Rogers, before and after the serum. 

When Barnes died, did he think of any of them?

 

Bucharest, Romania, July 2015

Saw a man draw something in the park today.  
He looked a little like Rogers.

Bucharest, Romania, July 2015

Had the image of a man sitting on a fire escape in my head today. I haven't seen a structure like that recently. Is it a memory?

My memories – or the pictures that come to my head – they are normally not peaceful like that- They include bullets and blood.

I do remember faces, even smiling faces. But then I remember screams. 

I cling to that man on the fire escape and hope I won't end up shooting him as well.

 

Bucharest, Romania, July 2015

Woke up in the middle of the night because I saw the image of Barnes going outside that fire escape and putting a blanket on the other man's shoulders. 

The other is the small version of Steve Rogers. Rogers said he was my friend. He means he was Barnes' friend. Bucky's friend. 

What does that make me?

It is almost impossible to write down any of this. But it needs to be done. I need there to be something I can hold on to. What If I lose everything again? I have so little as it is. A small flat. A sleeping back and a backpack, bought by Hydra money. Rent paid by odd fixing jobs paid for in cash. And this book. Every scrap of self I can find is in this book now. How can Rogers be so sure of who I am? What does he remember?

 

Bucharest, Romania, July 2015

I remembered him. Of course I did. But not in images and words and episodes. It's more like muscle memory. When we fought on that carrier, when he surrendered and said those words – I didn't remember the exact scene of what those words meant. I still don't. But I could not hit him anymore. And I just had all these images of him in my head that had nothing to do with the mission briefings. They were of a time before any war. I didn't know then that I had ever known a time without one war or the other. But there it was. 

I still think I could lose my mind again any second. What then? But what now? Right now I am so focused on just living, I don't even know what for.

 

Bucharest, Romania, August 2015

I remembered the woman who gave birth to Barnes today.   
In my mind, she was robust looking, not very old. Her hair was brown but already greying. There was no picture of her in that museum, so maybe this means it's a real memory. She told a boy, Barnes I guess, that he should count sheep when he can't sleep. 

That was odd though, because I have actually tried that – but instead of lifestock, all I see are the people that I have killed. And with them my memory is spot on. I remember each of their faces with a terrifying clarity, probably due to the extensive mission briefings. 

I wonder what Mrs. Barnes would say if she knew what happened to her son.   
Did anybody ever tell her what happened? Was she even still alive when Barnes fell off that train? There is no memory of that day, just what the museum said. The museum did not say much about Barnes' family. They said a lot about Rogers and Rogers' family.

I guess Rogers must be the only one who knows. 

I only know that I don't know.


	9. Chapter 9

From: sw@stark-secure.com  
To: sgr@stark-secure.com

 

2015/08/15

Subject: I am so sorry

Dear Steve,

I feel like I shouldn't ask how you are.   
I have seen what happened in Segovia. I can hardly imagine what it must have been like but I feel that I know you well enough to know you cannot be OK.

I know everyone is looking for you now for answers, for explanations and for anything you can do to help them understand what happened. 

But I'm not everyone. I hope you understand that by now. I'm just here to remind you that whatever you're feeling right now is OK and that it's human to cry, to snap at people and to go sit in a quiet room for a while. Don't deny yourself to feel human at a time like this. You are a hero because you are so very human.

I just hope you know that. 

I look forward to seeing you again when you come back.

Sam

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: sw@stark-secure.com

2015/08/15

Subject: Re: I am so sorry

Sam,

You don't know, how much your last E-Mail meant to me. You are right. It is a different time. And a time in which I feel out of my depth to comply with everyone's expectations. 

I remember a time when I would muse with Bucky about questions like what is right and what is wrong. He always wanted to be a hero and I told him he was. And he said I was the one who was always so good. 

But am I? I had hoped the Avengers would be a good thing. Would accomplish something for humanity. But they have a destructive power to them that is simply frightening. And I am in charge of that power. And I am not all that good. I have a strong sense of principle and there are things I believe in. But is that good?

I have been brought up on the American dream. There was a time when I would do anything for this country of mine. Now I have to wonder. There is an arrogance to this dream. There is an arrogance to my actions. There is a responsibility with this body that I have always tried to understand but that I could never really accept. 

The first time I used this new body to do something I thought was right, I hit a man so hard he was unconscious. 

Maybe God or nature or what you might call it has given me that other body, my real one, because I was supposed to dream big but to be humbled by my physical imitations. Now I can do anything but for the first time I don't know, what the right thing might be. 

I tell people a lot. About what I think is right and about my faith in people and their abilities to do the right thing. But sometimes I wonder. 

Bucky has told me once that he thought my new body was hard as a rock but that it actually cushioned everything about Steve Rogers. That it swallowed the angles and edges. 

Maybe that is true. Maybe everything is more blurred now. 

I am sorry for rambling. You said it was human to cry, to withdraw now. But I don't think I'm Captain America because I am human. I believe, people need him to be larger than life. And that's what I'll do.

All I can offer now is standing up to the consequences of my actions. That is all we can do. I have done it before. 

I hope you are well. And I hope we see each other again, soon.

Your friend,  
Steve


	10. Chapter 10

Bucharest, Romania, August 2015

What the hell? What am I doing? I cannot seem to concentrate on anything. I cannot seem to remember anything anymore. There is no explanation for the things I have done, for the images in my head. There is nothing I want more than some sense of normality right now.  
Just sitting here at the window, looking out onto the streets in front of this apartment I can see people moving about in their everyday lifes, Most of them cannot even begin to imagine the things I have seen, that I have done. When I talk to them they have no idea how I learned their language, how I was strapped to a chair, words ingrained into my head until I vomited them back out.


	11. Chapter 11

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: pp@stark-secure.com

Subject: A favor

2015/08/15

Dear Pepper,

how are you? I feel like we haven't talked in ages. And I am sorry for contacting you only now with a favor to ask. It is something I really don't like doing, turning to people only when I need them. But in this case, I have been contemplating things for a long time and couldn't come up with an other solution. And I couldn't think of anyone to ask but you. 

So here goes: I have made some drawings. Lots of them actually. Before the war, during and after. It's a huge collection. And I want them to be exhibited all over the world. Specifically in certain capitals. I will send you a list. 

This will sound very self-centered. But the drawings are good and I want the exhibit to copy one that is taking place in Brooklyn right now. I am sending you the link here: www.hipster-art-brooklynny.com/drawingsofwar. Basically, I want to include drawings and photographs from the thierties and fourties. No famous artists, preferably soldiers. Not just American, everyone who fought. And yes, my drawings should be among them. Don't worry, they are fairly good, or so I have been told. I don't want them to be marketed as a Captain America or Avengers kind of thing. But my name must be clearly visible. That is important. I can fund the whole thing with my own money. Turns out, I have 70 years worth of revenue from the whole Captain America merchandise because Peggy was clever enough to whip up good contracts for me back in the day. I am telling you this so you don't feel like I am asking for money from what is basically your company now. I just need someone to help me organize this thing. Because I cannot do this on my own. 

Maybe if you could just give me the contacts from someone who can do this. I mean I know you're very busy. But I wouldn't even know where to start without you.

Oh, one more thing. The entrance to the exhibit must be free. So no revenues. But I will need lots of marketing. Radio and newspapers. No TV, no social media. 

Do you think this is possible?

Please let me know. And let me know what I can do. 

All the best,

Steve

P. S. I do not mean to pry into what is clearly non of my business, but I know Tony misses you. I don't know why I never see you anymore and that is your business and his. But he's not the same without you. 

 

From: pp@stark-secure.com  
To: sgr@stark-secure.com

Subject: Re: A favor

2015/08/16

Hi Steve,

This is a great idea and I am happy to help. I will get it all done, don't worry. Of course we can use you money but I actually have some funds left from the Stark Foundation for the Fine Arts that I need to spend before the end of the year, so consider this a sponsorship.

Oh yes, and I want you to draw me and sign it and make sure everyone knows just how awesome I am. 

I guess we can get the whole thing started by the end of the year. Just get your drawings together and let me know how much of your own stuff you want in each exhibit. 

Let's have coffee when ever you're back in NY. I feel like we haven't talked in ages.

Hugs,  
Pepper

P. S. I am not going to ask about Segovia and what it did to you. But if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. 

P. P. S. I have talked to Tony after Segovia. I guess if you want to know more about this, then that coffee will have to turn into cocktails. I am doing you this favor so you'll do me the favor and pretend to get drunk on vodka cranberry. 

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: pp@stark-secure.com

2015/08/16

Subject: Re: Re: A favor

Thank you, Pepper, you are the best! Consider your drawing done and I am actually flying back to New York tomorrow. There is something else we need to talk about. When are you free? Coffee is on me. I hear there are good places in Brooklyn. Just text me the details!

THANK YOU!

Steve

From: sw@stark-secure.com  
To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/08/17

Subject: Fair warning

Hi Steve,

It was great meeting you and Pepper today. It really was. But learning about your idea – man, I can only imagine what you're thinking to do with this exhibition and I just don't think it's a good idea.

In fact, it is most certainly a really terrible idea.   
He is not the man you knew. He will only hurt you. In more ways than one.   
Please don't do this. 

Sam

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: sw@stark-secure.com 

2015/08/17

RE: Fair warning

Sam,

I appreciate your worrying about me. I really do. But the thing is – I am already hurt more deeply than you can imagine. There is nothing that I can think of that would feel worse to me than this. This life without him when I know what he has been through. Because of me. 

You didn't know him back then. He was light and flame. He only really wanted to be good. What they did to him is the worst cruelty. 

I know things change. Hell, things had changed between us before he fell. I know it wasn't easy for him when I became the Captain. But we were still friend. And that's what I believe. This is what I will die believing if I have to. That Bucky and I are still friends.

Steve


	12. Chapter 12

New York, 1st September 2015

B.

I don't know if you get this. If you do, you must remember. Please remember me. Remember us. Please don't let them win. 

I am with you, till the end of the line.

SGR

 

New York, 1st September 2015

B,

You cannot imagine how it was without you. There was nothing when I came back. Nothing that mattered. I am sorry for leaving you behind. I should never have done that. And if I could just talk to you, even for just a moment, I would – Don't ask me, what I would do. 

Please remember.  
SGR

 

New York, 1st September 2015

B,

I keep thinking if I should just remind you of things, tell you anecdotes until something clicks. Or are you like a sleepwalker now and I would wake you up?  
Will you even read these notes? God I hope you will some day. They are touring all over the world with this thing and I have notes in each show. And if you read them, please remember. And please try and contact me. I know it's dangerous, but we will figure it out, we always have.

Please remember,  
SGR

New York, 1st September 2015

B,

I guess I can tell you this, back in the war, you always found ways to get letters through to me. One of them was especially important. I guess, now it is my time to find ways to get these to you.

And if you remember the content of that one letter, if you could just – you should know that my answer is still yes. It will always be yes. Even after all that has happened. I don't care.

Please come back.  
SGR.

 

New York, 1st September 2015

B,

One of the worst moment I ever experienced was when they told me you were missing in action. I thought my heart, that big new heart of mine would just stop.

I would have done anything to get you back. And I did. Of course I did. I wanted you to save yourself then. “Not without you” you said. I have always thought that one of us wasn't much good without the other. 

Please come back.   
SGR.

New York, 1st September 2015

B,

If you read this, please try and get in touch. I need to talk to you. Please

SGR

New York, 1st September 2015

B, 

Do you remember anything? I know you must have remembered something. There was something in your eyes that day.   
I cannot imagine what it must be like for you now. But back when we were close, I knew you as a guy who would never give up. And I see the same fight in you still. 

I don't want anything from you that might be too much to handle. I just want to know you're OK.  
SGR

New York, 1st September 2015

B,  
I just keep writing these letters on the back of my drawings in invisible ink. You used this to get a message to me. I am doing the same. You asked me to stop looking. I have. But I will never stop believing in you. I won't stop reaching out. 

SGR

New York, 1st September 2015

B,  
If I had caught you --- do you even remember that train? If I had caught you then maybe everything would be different now. Maybe we would both be dead. Or senile like Peggy. But who knows what life could have been ours.   
I cannot ask more from you than I already have. But I cannot let you go.   
I just can't. 

SGR

New York, 1st September 2015

B, 

What have they done to you? The man I fought that day in Washington was not the man I – not the man I knew. And yet, he was still there, maybe trapped somehow, but he is still around.

Please come back to me whole.

SGR

 

New York, 2nd September 2015

B,

I have so many drawings of you, I didn't even know. They were in old folders and just looking at them had me remember so much of our time together. But what struck me most is the drawings I made since they took me off the ice. Basically, I have drawn you over and over again without even really knowing. But somehow, your face is ingrained in my mind.

I even made a new drawing of you, with longer hair. 

Please remember.  
SGR

 

New York, 3rd September 2015

B, 

I have never told this to anyone, but before I lost you, we had this big argument. It haunts me until today – I am just putting this down into writing and it almost hurts. There is such a slim chance that you will ever read this, let alone understand what I mean. But I have to put it in here. I have to have the knowledge that what ever happens, you might see this. 

I am sorry. For all I said. I was hurt. But I know now all that wasn't important. It was important that I had you, that I could see you every day. See you smile. Hear your voice. 

I want that again. More than anything else. If you can remember anything about us, anything at all, please try and get into contact with me. 

Please remember.   
SGR


	13. Chapter 13

Bucharest, Romania, August 2015

He saved me, dragged me from that bolder. And he said those words. Till the end of the line. And it's like the scar that I have. The scar that I could never explain. It looks like an S, crossed by a line. Almost like an $, but not quite. More tilted. Like the S is at the end of that line. I never found out where it came from. I remember the doctor who did the Winter Soldier's check-ups frowning at it a couple of times, but he would never say anything. Probably afraid of the consequences.

But that scar. It is so faint, so hidden. But always there. Maybe it was just a freak accident, but maybe it was Barnes' last message, somehow, against all odds, engraved in his own flesh.


	14. Chapter 14

From: sw@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/10/02  
´  
Re: Drawings

Dear Steve, 

You know I helped preparing your drawings for those exhibitions today. Basically, I packed up most of your artwork. I have to confess I mostly came because I was curious about your art. 

It is mostly him, over and over again. I know the plan is to put them together with lots of other pieces, but I saw what you have done over all those years. I guess I finally see how you see him.

You love him Steve and I don't think it's the way you love your brothers in arms.  
Hell, if you ever drew Tony or myself like you draw him, we would definitely need to talk!

This isn't a question. I don't ask any admission from you.  
I know this to be true. And it breaks my heart. For maybe you have a way of seeing Bucky, but you don't see the Soldier. You don't know what they have done to him.

Believe me, I have worked with men who have been under torture.  
They were never the same, never. And this is torture and brainwashing.  
There can be no happy ending for you two. 

And this plan of yours, whatever it is exactly, do you know how slim the odds are of him seeing any of those drawings?

I am so sorry for writing this and I wish I could bring up the courage to tell you this in person, but I have tried before and you wouldn't listen.

This is my way to give you time to process what I am telling you.

Grieve for your loss. I can only imagine the love you felt for him and maybe he for you. I call it a great injustice that the two of you never had a life together. I really and truly do. 

But Steve, you have a new life now. Please don't throw it away.  
Please.

I am writing this, because I care about you. 

Take care, Steve.  
Sam 

 

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com

To: sw@stark-secure.com

2015/10/02

Re: Drawings

Sam,  
I appreciate your concern. And you have done so much for me that I cannot even begin to thank you. 

But here is the thing you don't know about me: I don't play the odds. I just fight. And I fight to win.

Steve.

 

From sw@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/10/02

Re: Re: Drawings

Oh Steve, where do you come up with this stuff?  
Okay then, have it your way.  
If that's the way it is, I am here for you. But I am mostly there for moral support, you know, when you ultimately break down crying for your lost love and stuff. You will need a shoulder to cry on. You will need someone to talk to.  
I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour... (let me know if you get this reference without looking it up). 

Sam

From: sgr@stark-secure.com

To: sw@stark-secure.com

2015/10/02

Re: Re: Re: Drawings

The Rembrandts, I'll be there to you. Opening theme to the 90ies hit show “Friends”.  
At least give me a challenge. 

And by the way, since it seems only fitting, the third verse goes:  
No one could ever know me  
No one could ever see me  
Seems you're the only one who knows  
What it's like to be me

 

It goes without saying that I'd appreciate it if things could stay that way. 

Steve

 

From: ts@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/10/15

Subject: New place

Hi Steve,

Just a heads up, I have taken the liberty to build a new Avengers headquarter in upstate New York.  
You said you wanted to train new Avengers, so obviously we need more space.  
Now we have space. A whole apartment for each Avenger, current and future and currently missing.  
Gymnasiums for everyone, medical facilities and a park. With a lake. 

I just thought I'd let you know. As the Cap, you can take first pick with the rooms (after me of course). 

So come on, drop by, I'll text you the address. 

Tony

P.S. Bring some of that Captain America merchandise that you have stored somewhere, the new place needs new decorations.

From: sgr@stark-secure.com

To: ts@stark-secure.com

Subject: Re: New Place

OK. I'll bring a pillow.  
SGR

 

From: sw@stark-secure.com  
To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/12/20  
Subject: How are you?

Hey Steve,

As you know, I am about to leave the Avengers HQ and spend some time with my family. And although we see each other every day, I feel like we haven't talked in ages. Somehow you have only been yelling at me on the training yard... 

But seriously, I am not an idiot. I know you've been throwing yourself into training the new recruits to forget about him. I know the radio silence must drive you mad. And I know some part of you must be giddy with excitement because the first exhibits are about to start in the US and Europe. 

Just do me a favor and don't go mad while I'm away. Please, if you feel lonely and desperate, don't do that thing where you pretend like everything is fine and you secretly punch the crap out of a poor, innocent punch bag.

Better call or write.

We need you, Cap. And we need your sanity intact.

Happy Holidays.

Sam

From: sgr@stark-secure.com  
To: sw@stark-secure.com

2015/12/20  
Subject: Re: How are you?

Hi Sam,

Thank you. Indeed, I am oddly restless now that I know all the shipments are done and the first openings are about to start. 

I thought I was a guy who is used to being in control and that that's the reason why I'm not dealing well with everything that's going on right now.

But turns out, I haven't been in control in a long time. Not really. During the war they turned me into a dancing puppet and after, HYDRA had me on their leash without me even knowing. And even now – the Avengers are Tony's hobby, not mine. I am just looking for something to do while Bucky does whatever he does right now. And I cannot stop thinking about him. I can't. 

I still have all the letters he sent during the war and I have those that I sent as well. After he fell, the army in their infinite wisdom just stored all of his stuff away with mine and gave everything to Peggy instead of his Mum. I think Mrs. Barnes never asked for his things. 

Do you know that I had to write the letter to her? After he was gone I couldn't even get drunk but had to sit down and write a letter to his poor mother, a woman who I had known almost all my life, as his CO. 

I can't remember the words I wrote. I can only remember the ache. I was never good with words, that was always his thing. His strength. So I included the drawing. The one that was in that exhibition. I drew it from memory to convey everything I saw in her son (maybe not everything, but certainly the things a mother wants to see). 

And still, it was never enough. I never had the time to see her, to talk to her and let her know just how sorry I was. I learned later on that she died in the early fifties. Alone, because his sister, Becca, was on her honeymoon at the time. But Peggy told me she had been there, before, and that Mrs. Barnes had laughed at one of her stories. Maybe that was a kindness, but when the pain grows too strong, I like to imagine that laughter. As it it would make things alright again.

I actually met Becca's granddaughter once for coffee. That was awkward, cause we had nothing much to say to each other. But at least Becca died in her sleep, peacefully from what I hear. 

I guess the granddaughter must have given that picture away. 

All this time, I have just been waiting for something to happen. 

But there is still no trace of him. 

Honestly, I am sick of waiting. That is why I am training the new avengers, that is because I am so hard on you. Because with Thor and Bruce gone and Clint in his early retirement, I need more manpower (should I say person-power?) to go after HYDRA. I guess you should know that is my sole motivation. I don't care much about “Earth's mightiest heroes”. I care about Bucky and about what they did to him. 

I want to do something. Stop the waiting. 

So there you are. I wouldn't judge you if you didn't come back after Christmas break. But if you do, you should know what you're getting into. 

I hope you're ok with that. 

Steve

From: sw@stark-secure.com  
To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2015/12/20  
Subject: Re: Re: How are you?

OK. I'm OK with that. Just – don't expect him to leave flowers on your doorstep or anything like that anytime soon. 

But jeez, it sounds like you should really talk to someone about everything that happened between you two during the war. I mean talk about intense. 

I remember when I wrote to Riley's folks. I didn't have to, because I wasn't his CO. But I did anyway. I wanted them to know what he meant to me. Upright religious folks that they are, they never got back into contact with me. Not once. 

I still feel like shit just thinking about it. 

The world is not always a good place, Steve. You are one of the few good people I know. I would hate for you to lose that. 

Please be OK again soon.  
Take care, Steve.  
Sam.

 

2015/12/24

From sgr@stark-secure.com

To: sw@stark-secure.com

Subject: Re: Re: Re: How are you?

Hi Sam,

I realize I shouldn't write an E-Mail right now. I've taken Thor up on that Asgardian ale thing and it's not – well I don't feel like I usually feel. So I guess there is some effect.

I am sorry that you worry so much about me. I'm doing fine, really.

Well, maybe not today. Christmas eve brings memories and I can't shake them. Not today. There is nobody here, they've all gone to some party and I - said I would be fine but maybe I'm not.

Bucky's father died the night before Christmas. Buck was still a child then. But it made him view Christmas differently. And until today, I see Christmas like he does. Not so much a time for presents and family, but for looking back. On the good things and the bad. And this year – there were so many bad things this year- but I also know Bucky is still alive. It's difficult to care about much else, it really is.

In 1944, Buck got me to go to a Christmas party in London. I actually just wanted to stay back and learn new codes. But then I joined him, anyway. His great plan was to get a buddy of ours to dance with a girl underneath a mistletoe so that they would have to kiss. 

In the end, Bucky and I ended up in that place. We didn't kiss though. We couldn't. But how I wish we had.

We have only kissed once – there was no time, no place – and there was something wrong with us. Not because we – it was just, we couldn't – he could not – I don't think I was the one he wanted then. 

Christ, Sam, I'm so messed up just remembering this stuff. 

Christmas is a bad time for me. It's a really bad time.

I sure hope it is better for you though. I hope you have a good time with your family.  
I look forward to seeing you again next year.

Sorry for this E-Mail.

Steve

2015/12/25

From sw@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: How are you?

Hey Steve,

You're lucky I'm a big old insomniac and an internet addict on top of that. So I saw your E-Mail more or less straight away, even on Christmas Eve. 

It's OK for you to feel sad, Steve. It's OK to feel a little lost. Hell, you've been through so much. And this is the time of year when any sane person feels slightly depressed, anyhow. But please just remember that you have friends. That you are loved. You don't have to face any of this alone. 

It must have been incredibly difficult for you back in the day. I mean for Barnes and you and those in hindsight fairly obvious feelings that you have for each other. You keep hinting that maybe it was one sided. Do you really believe that? Because from what I've seen, the guy is almost as obsessed with you as you are with him,even though he might be slightly more homicidal about it. But seriously, I cannot imagine how anyone could not want you. It's not my place to ask but if you care to tell me anyway, I'm here to listen. 

You know I keep telling you to stop looking for him and to get some closure. But you never listen to me, anyways. And today - don't know. Maybe because it's Christmas. But today I feel like maybe I've been wrong. Maybe I just didn't realize what the two of you are to each other and what it does to you to be without him. 

So today I tell you to not give up. But to fight for him. Because what ever you think has happened or not happened between the two of you, I think it's worth to find out what he thinks about all that. And maybe there is a way. You can never know what's going to happen. Sometimes fate will intervene and things happen that you didn't think were possible in another life time.

So yeah, maybe Christmas is about looking back. But maybe it's also about looking forward.  
And wouldn't he be something to look forward to? 

I love you, man. And hey look, it's after midnight now, so merry Christmas, Cap!

Sam

 

 

2015/12/25

From: sgr@stark-secure.com 

To: sw@stark-secure.com

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: How are you?

Thank you, Sam.


	15. Chapter 15

Bucharest, Romania, October 2015

Every time I walk through the park, I get this weird feeling. Especially at sunset. I cannot really describe it, I get the chills all of a sudden and then my heart races and I need to sit down because I feel almost dizzy. It's like my body is telling my mind something but I don't understand what it's saying. 

Sometimes after the park, I take a look at the picture I copied. That drawing of Sergeant Barnes. When I look in the mirror, there is no true likeness with that guy, except for the setting of the eyes in the face and a cleft in the chin. I guess we are both soldiers. Somehow that always shows. 

Bucharest, Romania, December 2015

I have been walking around today. For a long time. I have been watching people and tried not to be seen. That seems different from what Barnes used to do. I feel like Barnes never wanted not to be seen. I keep having images of him in my head, of him walking around, looking for women to notice him. It's kind of sad. Even for him. 

People seem different if you just watch them without wanting to kill them. There are so many. And they all go about their life, thinking no one will notice them. Thinking whatever they do, it won't change the course of history. 

That is a life that is hard to imagine.

I don't know what I'm doing half the time. It's such a little life. Going out, going to the store. Coming to an empty apartment. Taking in nutrition and laying the body down just to wish you can sleep. Yearning for some little pieces of dreams just to make you feel whole again. 

And if no memories come? What if you're just an empty machine? What if you'll never feel like a person ever again? 

Sometimes I just lie there on the ground. Feeling the cold rush through my bones. Feeling nothing in the left arm. Then the instinct to just punch through the floor is almost overwhelming. 

It is a small life. 

What was it like before? What must it have been like to feel like belonging to something? To a place, a person, a job, anything. Even a name? There is no name that I use for myself. There is just the cover name at the job. John. John. John. James? Why not call myself James? It would be a start?  
A start of what? What the hell am I doing this for anyway? It's not like there's a happy ending. 

It's not like there's a mission anymore. There was always a mission and now it's just hanging around all day. Until a memory comes. But they are fickle. Sometimes I think, I am just making them up. Like the image of a pair of shoes with newspapers in them. What is up with that?

Bucharest, Romania, December 2015

Barnes is walking in the dirt. There is water everywhere, rain from above and sludge from the ground. There are no landmarks to make out where he is exactly but the landscape and the context suggest that he is in Europe. 

He is following someone. A big person in a very blue uniform. He is clinging to his rifle like it was his first born. There is something off about his eyes. They look even more like the eyes of the soldier. 

It can't be a memory, can it? The perspective is all wrong. But this, this is what I can see so very clearly. Like I can see things on screens everywhere in the city. Is it a recording? There is no way I can ever trust my memories. Not like this. 

Images are just that. They can belong to everyone. Memories should be different. If there are are any memories left in this body then how would I recognize them?

 

Bucharest, Romania, January 2016

There must be such a thing as fate. I guess. Or maybe there is just chaos and cruel irony.   
But there it was in the papers. Again. The face of Sergeant Barnes, the young one. The one, whose eyes aren't as haunted and hungry. There seems to be another exhibit, right here.   
But why go there? Will there be any answers? I can't even remember the questions.   
Also, money is tight this month with almost no construction work being done in winter. Why waste it? Why not keep existing like before. One day, this will all be over. And who cares then? 

 

Bucharest, Romania, February 2016

 

New York, 1st September 2015

B.,  
I can't believe this is happening. We have known each other forever. You were my first friend. You were my family. And after all that tore us apart, war, ice, death and torture, here we are again and you don't know me. Or so you've said. But maybe you do? Maybe you do know me? Then please, please, get in touch. Let me know you're ok.   
Please remember.  
SGR

I stole the picture of Barnes, found the message and made a copy. Everything was back in place before anybody could notice anything. I don't think Rogers knows where I am. I did my research. This isn't the only exhibit with those pictures. They are everywhere. What is with the man? Why is he so obsessed with a dead soldier? 

I guess I should move location. But I like it here. It's a good place. I like the food.  
I will stay. If he finds me, I can still disappear. He is really not that good at finding me. 

 

Bucharest, Romania, February 2016

Another dream tonight. Of the Captain. In his blue uniform. And the Sergeant in brown. They are arguing. But I can't hear them. It's like being under water. They don't seem to be yelling. But they are snarling at each other like vicious dogs. Why does Rogers think they are friends?   
They start hitting each other. The Sergeant is throwing punches like a mad man, the Captain is only blocking. That's easy enough to see and it drives the other mad. What are they fighting about?

Bucharest, Romania, April 2016

Sometimes I look at the picture that Rogers drew. And I compare it to the mirror. What happened to Barnes? I tried to find all the information about where the soldier came from. But I still cannot link the two. They look alike, that is true. But other than that-- I don't know. I still can't really remember what has happened before. So I don't know what has happened to him. To Barnes. How he woke up from the ice and somehow ended as a killing machine. Did he ever go on a roller coaster with Steve Rogers?

 

Bucharest, Romania, April 2016

Dreams and memories are interconnected now. That is a problem. When I dream, there is no way to know if this is a memory or just an illusion. The soldier had no dreams. Not one, his brain never rested.

I dream every night. And it's blood and guts and horror. Or sometimes it's just faces. Very still, white faces.

Those are the worst kind of dreams.  
But then sometimes there are images that lead me to Barnes. Somehow, they have a different color than the other ones. They are brighter, even the blood is more real.

Rogers is in most of them and often he is smiling. There is a softness around his eyes in those dreams. 

But Barnes is not happy. In those dreams, I am him, I feel like him – and he is – uneasy, especially around Rogers. It's like he doesn't know what he is supposed to say or do. But he wants to punch somebody all the time. 

He wants to kick and scream and it's unsettling because I thought he was friends with Rogers. In some dreams, he is only sitting in a dark tent, watching a sleeping Rogers. I want to get inside his head then but it doesn't work. The sleeping person triggers the other memories, the soldier's memories. 

And then it's back to the blood and the violence. 

 

Bucharest, Romania, April 2016

So either there is a memory of Barnes and Rogers actually kissing somewhere in my wiring or said wiring is more damaged then I have thought. 

But I saw them tonight. In a dream. They were just standing beneath dark trees and talking when suddenly Rogers leans over and kisses Barnes on the lips. This time the perspective is right, so I am in Barnes's head and he sees Rogers leaning in, his face coming towards him. 

I can feel his heartbeat quickening, even through the dream. The kiss is also quick. Barely even a kiss. Barnes remembers, that he has kissed his sister with more intensity. It makes him laugh. It's a cruel laugh, even to his ears. And Rogers asks what's going on and Barnes just wants to go away. But the Captain is holding him back. 

That is when he tries to land a punch but is blocked and pushed against a tree. 

And it is intense to be so close to Rogers. His face, his eyes. And the heat radiating from his body. 

Barnes is aroused but trying to hide it. 

And when I woke up, I was aroused as well.   
I have the same physical reaction. And I feel like this must be a memory. It can't be from a museum, can it?

The soldier has no desires. Not for a long time. It must be Barnes, his undead emotions somewhere in my brain, like his scar on my skin. 

Does that mean I am Barnes? Am I “Bucky”?

Tonight is the first time I feel like him. 

It might be the first time I have really felt anything in pain in a long, long time. 

Still – I can't go and see Rogers, even if he is the only one who can fill in the gaps. I don't know what I would tell him. What does he know? What even happened? If anyone else finds me – I don't know what I would do. I haven't heard anyone in a while. It feels good. I don't want it to start again.  
Nonoononononononon.

It's safe here, it's good.

Come on, Steve, come here and find me, cause I sure as hell don't have a clue what happened between you and that lousy fucker, -me.


	16. Chapter 16

From: To: sw@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

2016/04/04

Subject: Miss you!

Hey Steve,  
How are you, man? I miss you! I mean, I know you always have stuff to do and fights to fight, but it sure gets lonely out here when there is no one but Jarvis to keep me company. Also, I had the oddest encounter today with a super crazy guy. I will have to tell you all about it sometime, it was insane shit!

I thought about what you told me about Barnes and you. Do you really think you weren't the one you wanted? Is there anyone who doesn't want you? I mean, seriously, dude! 

I guess it's not even a question of sexual orientation, it's just - did you ever look at yourself in the mirror? So whatever you think his deal was, I am very sure it was not what you thought. 

Sam

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com

To: sw@stark-secure.com

2016/04/09

Subject: The thing we never talked about

Hi Sam, 

I feel really guilty about leaving you alone like this. I know it must be super boring but after all the time you have looked for Bucky on my account, I figured you might like some rest. 

I wad clearly wrong!

But yeah, please tell me about that encounter of yours. Cute guy? (see, two can play at this game).  
Since you keep asking about it-   
let me tell you the whole thing (although it does not make me look good!)

We had written each other letters before. Long letters with at times rather explicit content.   
One of our tricks was that Bucky would include letters to his lover “Susan” into the envelopes directed to me. That way, the censors wouldn't find out about us. 

But obviously, in my letters I couldn't tell him about the serum and all that. I just let him know that I had changes physically and had definitely gained some weight.

Because from his letters, it was clear that he actually loved my former, skinny self. I really wasn't sure how he'd react upon seeing me then, all beefed up or hunked out or however you may call it. 

And when the news came that we would go to Italy with the USO show I was both, crazy nervous and extremely excited at the same time. 

In Italy, it hit me pretty bad when I learned that Bucky was thought dead. That's an understatement. It was the worst I had ever felt after losing my mother. 

I can't begin to describe it to you.   
But it was the first time that I really was happy about my new body. Not the receding asthma, not seeing the world in colors, no. But that moment when I realized I had the power to rescue him, to do something-

I think I prayed then and I didn't stop praying until I saw him again. On some Hydra lab table and held him in my arms. All I could say was “I thought you were dead”. 

Obviously by then he was just really out of it. Still I will never forget how he replied: “I thought you were smaller”, and I remember thinking that he probably did not think of me as “his” Steve then. But I didn't care, because at that moment, I was just so damn grateful for all they had done to me. 

Because Captain America, that useless git in his tights and red boots, he had saved the love of my life. 

But then, there was also the matter of me telling him about my previous experiences with other men – to which I didn't know how he would react. I actually don't know if he ever got that letter and if he would ever be fine with it. We didn't talk about it when we saw each other again. I just – I feared he knew but I couldn't tell him again. Not when I had been this close to losing him.

We were like confused boys all over again, despite all our intense letters and written declarations of love. I guess words are just that. An abstraction of thoughts and actions – we had no clue what we were doing and I just spiraled right back into insecurity. 

Because when finally I did kiss him, he basically leashed out at me, tried to hit me. And when he kissed me – it was heaven, but we could never go further. He simply – it feels wrong to write this, even to you. But he apparently wasn't into what we were doing as much as I was. Not enough to go any further anyway.

And then I really lost him. 

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com

To: sw@stark-secure.com

2016/04/10

Subject: Moving out

Sam, 

I am so sorry to call you back early from your little vacation. It was well deserved. But we need you with us in the field. I am taking the team to Nigeria, we have reason to believe that Hydra is out there with a nasty plan.   
I will text you the coordinates.  
Steve


	17. Chapter 17

May 10th 2016

Tony,

I’m glad you’re back at the compound, I don’t like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I’ve been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere – even in the Army. My faith is in people, I guess. Individuals. And I’m happy to say for the most part, they haven’t let me down. Which is why I can’t let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but – maybe they shouldn’t.   
I know I hurt you Tony. I guess I thought – by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but… I can see now I was really sparing myself. I’m sorry.   
Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you were only doing what you believe in, and that’s all any of us can do, it’s all any of us should. 

So no matter what, I promise if you — if you need us. If you need me, I’ll be there.  
Steve

 

From: ts@stark-secure.com

To: sgr@stark-secure.com

Subject: What the hell?

2016/05/13

Steve, 

what the hell do you think you're doing, writing a letter like that?   
Do you really think we can be friends again after what you did to me? And then you go ahead and do what exactly? Send me a letter? A letter damn it!

Steve. I really want to be on the same team again, I do and I never thought I would be a team player. But you just riding off into the sunset with Barnes after beating the crap out of me? 

That's nothing you can make better with just a letter. 

You have made your choice.   
And it was him over any of us.   
I really hope he's fucking worth it. 

Tony

P. S. I am really horribly drunk now. Otherwise I wouldn't have written to you at all. 

 

From: sgr@stark-secure.com 

To: ts@stark-secure.com

2016/05/11

Subject: Re: What the hell?

Tony,

I am sorry that you feel this way. This seems so childish after all we have been through.  
And we did not “ride off into the sunset together”. Bucky is apparently the only one of us who has grown up. He put himself back on ice. So you don't have to be afraid of him. 

Are you keeping his arm by the way? That seems like something you would do.

This is my last email from this account btw. 

I cannot be nice all the time, Tony. I can't. If you don't want to accept my apology then fucking don't. 

I will still fight with you in case giant space monsters invade or God forbid some new energy stone development threatens to wipe out life on Earth as we know it. But I am tired, Tony. I'm just tired of arguing with you. 

I made a mistake. I know.   
But I made no mistake choosing Buck. I will always chose him, no matter what.

Steve

P. S. I know it's not my business, but please call Pepper. 

 

From: Sam.Wilson@gmail.com  
To: Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com

2016/05/12

Hey Steve,

I am sorry, I know you have a lot going on but I cannot help thinking about you and Barnes (not like that). And now that I have fought with the guy and seen you together I can assert with absolute surety that he is one hundred percent, prime time in love with you (which movie?). So no, you didn't have to snog your former love interest's great-niece with your two boys sitting on the backseat of the world's smallest car just to go ahead and make everyone feel uncomfortable and add to the general emotional confusion. No you really didn't have to do that. 

Seriously. I don't know what exactly happened back in the forties but from everything you have told me, I'm kinda thinking that maybe he had no problem with your body or the fact that you had done it with other men before him. I think the problem was with his own body. 

You do know its likely that he had PTSD after being a POW with Hydra, right? And do you know that PTSD causes erectile dysfunctions? 

I don't think it had anything to do with you at all. I just think he didn't know what was going on himself. He must have been an emotional and physical mess. That's why he leashed out, that's why he didn't get it up. That had nothing to do with you.

It's crystal clear to me. I just hope you can see it, too. 

Wherever you are now, I wish the two of you all the best.

Sam

P. S. Did I ever tell you that Scott is actually the guy who knocked me off my feet when you inexplicably left me alone in the new avenger's mansion? I never wanted you to know this but I feel like there is enough leverage now. 

So yeah, that one ant took a falcon down like a pro. Once.

 

From: pp@stark-secure.com  
To: Steve_G_Rpgers@aol.com 

2016/05/15

Subject: A favor

 

Steve,

I finally learned where those drawings came from. Sharon found a note with Peggy's things. Since she couldn't reach me, she sent it to me. I don't know why, we have never met, but she wrote that she had heard from you that I could be trusted. I am glad about this, Steve. And I really just want to help. 

So anyway, apparently Peggy gave yours and Sergeant Barnes' things to Mrs. Barnes after your plane went missing. And then everything went to his sister and her daughter and she must have given the picture to that gallery. 

And do you know what else? There were letters also. I know this, because I contacted her and I may have threatened her a bit that those were your things and since you were not in fact dead, she had no right to these things and that the mighty army of lawyers that Stark Industries keeps on a tight leash would be unleashed on her if she didn't hand everything over to me immediately. The letters seem untouched. I didn't touch them, either. It's all packed in a tight stack, just like Peggy must have bound them together during the war. 

Peggy wrote on that parcel: Exchange of letters, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, January 1943 - May 1944. I guess she was the last person to touch them and put them all together. There was also an old comic book. I don't know how significant that is. 

If you send me a mail address, I can forward you all those things. I didn't read the letters either, obviously, but just seeing that pile of letters that you two wrote to each other and seeing the images you drew of him - 

it makes everything crystal clear to me. 

Does Tony know? He can be such an ass sometimes. But somehow I think if he knew, he would understand better. But it's none of my business.

Love, Pepper

 

From: Steve_G_Rogers@aol.com

To: pp@stark-secure.com

2016/05/15

Subject: Re: A Favor

Pepper,

You don't know what this means to me!  
Please send everything to the address I am sending you via text.

You are the best.  
I will always remember this. Please send my regards and my apologies to Sharon – I don't have her contact.

Steve

P. S. Tony doesn't know anything. He doesn't even know how much he needs you. Please, can't you call him?


	18. Chapter 18

May 22nd 1944

Steve,

I am so sorry. I feel like I'm putting you and Susan through so much right now. It's just - there is a darkness in me, there is a terror, fear and anger that I cannot control. 

I wish I could. I wish I could talk to you about this, make you understand. 

But I feel like I cannot talk to you about these things anymore. And that is the tragedy of it all. I wish I could play Baseball with you, just like we've always said we would. I thought that would happen instantly as soon as we saw each other again. But then things were different when you came here. And I think you think that I don't want to play with you because of who you are now and because of your new body. But it's not that. 

I have to admit I was looking forward to playing with your former self. But it is you I want to spend time with. 

But somehow – I don't know, I hate the possibility of the old things ending. 

It feels like this war has taken everything from me. And it has swallowed our time together and now everything that once was is gone. 

It feels like everything is wrong now. I am wrong and we are wrong. But I hope I can move on. We cannot move back to what we were before. Those carefree boys in Brooklyn, they are gone. We can just remember them fondly and hope for the best. 

But I just miss the old times. I miss the old you and I miss the old me. The guys we are now? They are fighters, soldiers, warriors. I mean, is shooting my superpower now? Is that who I am?

That's not what I want to be, Steve. I want to be a good person. I want to be fun and I want to be your friend – I want to spend time with you, have a laugh, play games. 

I guess I just stick to the past. I am caught up in the past. I should move on. 

And I really just want to move on with you.  
Look, there are some crazy missions ahead. I know that. And I will just have to channel that darkness or whatever it is that goes through me and use it to protect you. But also I hope that we will get through this, that we can get to the other side and talk about all this. 

But if – for whatever reasons (my stupidity) we can't do that, I am leaving this letter with your things. In that one Captain America comic book issue that you carry around with you for some reason (your vanity I guess). 

I hope I can discuss it with you when we get back from Switzerland. But anyways you will find this letter even when I am too much of a coward. 

Always yours, to the end of the line,  
Bucky

 

Wakanda, May 22nd, 2016  
Bucky,

I am leaving this in Wakanda because I don't know when I'll be back and in case you wake up and I'm not there – I need you to know this straight away.

I have read all your letters now. All that survived. 

And you must know, I love you, Buck, I always have. And I don't even care if anyone reads this letter now. It belongs out there. 

Just as you have written to me and laid everything bare -  
You know I am not the one with the words. That is you.  
But after all these years, one of us must say it once more.

I love you and I want you and I never want us to make the same old mistakes again. 

You wrote once that you're scared of the change, of the persons that we have become. And I know what you mean. But it's still you and me, Buck. And that's not changing. The rest is just hairdos and uniforms (your hairdo, Pal. It's really bad. Please get a haircut as soon as you get out of the ice. Please, for me). Together we can do anything. And who knows, we might have to save the world together or something. It happens. But we will do it together. 

I might not be there always. You will have your own things to worry about. Of course you will. But there should be no more doubt between us. No more worry. After all we have been through we deserve this much. To be able to enjoy each others company. To love each other, no matter, what.

And if I hear you get out of the ice and start something with some poor Wakandian princess or make a pass at Natasha or whatever you might feel like doing because, I don't know, you kind of feel it is all too much for you and you might be too much of a burden for me to bear or you have to find yourself or whatever - 

I won't have it. I called off the search for you once, but now I have found you again. And I will follow you. I will be with you, till the infamous end of the line and to my last breath.  
However long it may take. 

I love you, Bucky, I do.  
Yours,  
Steve.

FIN


End file.
